


Amazed

by ashestoroses018



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Name spoilers, Some graphic depictions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7881121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashestoroses018/pseuds/ashestoroses018
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Cause, baby, I'm amazed by you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Duchesse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchesse/gifts).



> unedited, unbeta'd. let me know if you notice any errors, because I seriously just pushed this out in the last 30 minutes or so, and I'm posting it immediately. Usually I do at least a quick readthrough, but...oh wells.

You sigh, a look of befuddlement on your face. Saeyoung glances up from his computer. He’s trying to ignore you, but it’s not working very well.

“Luciel, why are you ignoring me?”

It’s difficult for him not to show how startled he is. It’s not often that _anyone_ uses his baptismal name – much less you. However, he does not remove his eyes from his screen or make any indication, whatsoever, that he hears you.

He hears you shuffle off. Quietly, Saeyoung breathes a sigh of relief. It’s getting harder and harder for him to ignore you. The way your smiles brighten your face completely, or the way you tilt your head slightly to your left when you’re listening intently to something. Or how your tongue peeks out of your lips, when you’re focused on your phone, emailing potential guests. Hopefully, you never notice him staring, but more and more, he finds his eyes searching for you, even if just in the reflection of his monitor.

“Ow!” Your scream echoes through Rika’s apartment, and Saeyoung moves before he realizes what he’s doing.

On instinct, he runs towards your voice, which leads him to the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” he’s asking, before he can catch himself.

You hold up your hand. There is a huge gash running diagonally across the palm of your left hand.

“Holy—how in God’s holy name did you manage that?” Saeyoung is already running over to you, searching for something to staunch the bleeding, all the while.

The look on your face is all Saeyoung needs to know you’re in a state of shock. “Give me your hand,” he says quietly, the command obviously leaving no room for rejection.

You do so, all the while staring up at his face. Being this close to you, smelling the light touch of your flowery perfume…it’s making his head spin, but he truly cannot afford to get distracted right now. Remembering his training, he lays you gently on the ground and elevates your feet slightly with some cookbooks.

A feminine giggle disrupts his concentration, while he’s trying to stop the bleeding, with all the paper towels available within the kitchen (even so, there’s a large pool of blood staining your house slippers, and Saeyoung is honestly seriously freaking out right now, but he’s trying not to allow his anxiety to show on his face, because the absolute _worst_ thing he can do for you right now is let you know how nervous he is; he needs to be the strong one here—he _always_ needs to be the strong one).

“The Mighty God, Seven Zero Seven, is finally paying attention to me…” Your voice is slightly disoriented, which makes Saeyoung very, very nervous.

“Yes~ The Mighty Seven Zero Seven is finally granting you His blessing, so I really need you to focus on my voice, okay?”

You nod.

“Good~! Now! Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” You squint your eyes, trying to focus on the hand Saeyoung is holding up. His other hand is trying desperately to put pressure on your wound. He can’t take you to the hospital…So he’s going to have to stitch you up himself, but he really needs to make sure you’re not losing too much blood, first.

“Um…you have really pretty hands, Seven~!” You giggle. “And they’re so soft, too!” You reach with your uninjured hand and suddenly caress his cheek.

Saeyoung’s eyes widen, and a fierce blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Wow~~! Your face is just as soft as it looks~! I wish I could just kiss you all the time, Seven~! But…” Your face falls. “The Mighty Seven Zero Seven doesn’t actually want to have a space wedding with me.”

Saeyoung winces at the pain in your voice. It isn’t like he _wants_ to hurt you. He _has_ to, to keep you from getting yourself killed.

“If you can tell me how many fingers I’m holding up, we’ll still have a space wedding! And the feast will be Honey Bwatda Chips and Doctor Pepper, and my best man will be Longcat~! Sound good, honey?”

Saeyoung is very happy to see your eyes brighten a little bit – at least you’re conscious enough to still understand what he’s saying.

“Four,” you say proudly.

Saeyoung’s heart almost stops in his chest. He’s not holding up four fingers. He’s holding up two.

“Honey,” he says, pointedly ignoring how happy it makes him to call you such an intimate pet name, “that’s not right. Can you try one more time for me?”

You narrow your eyes again. “Five? No, wait! Two. Three?”

Saeyoung curses under his breath. He seriously can’t take you to the hospital, but you’re losing way too much blood to be safe.

“Hold this on your cut, okay?” Even though you nod, he doesn’t expect you to follow his orders, so he quickly rustles through the cabinets and drawers. He _knows_ there has to be alcohol here somewhere. And Rika always kept a sewing kit in the kitchen…

“A-ha!” exclaims Saeyoung. He rushes over to you. “Okay, I want you to watch my face, honey, okay?”

You nod, a dreamy expression on your face. Saeyoung’s heart beats a little bit faster at how adoring your expression is. It pains him so much knowing how strongly you feel about him…All he can do is hope you won’t remember any of this in the morning, so things won’t be even more complicated.

“Tell me if this hurts, okay?” He takes a huge pile of unused paper towels and douses them in liquor.

There is a pained expression on your face, and Saeyoung’s heart hurts knowing that. Even so, he presses on, cleaning the wound. Now that he’s actually cleaning it, he notices that the blood is stopping. That’s a fantastic sign, but he still needs to stitch you up.

It takes him fifteen rather messy stitches before the wound is closed to his satisfaction. “Stay right here.” He commands you, before he goes searching for the first aid kit, to find gauze to cover the wound. “But why don’t you talk to me, nice and loud, okay?”

Honestly, it’s kind of nice being able to talk to someone as Saeyoung, rather than as Luciel, the Spy, or Seven, the Hacker. But that’s an extremely dangerous thought, so Saeyoung cuts himself off quickly.

“I really love the color of your hair,” you say, and it sounds like you’re becoming more lucid. “And I like the way your eyes shine when you finally figure something out on the computer. Your smile is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, and I love the sound of your laugh. I find it amazing when you trust me enough to talk to me normally, rather than ‘being Seven’, as you put it.”

Saeyoung finds the first aid kit as you pause your speaking; perhaps you’re trying to think of more compliments. If that’s the case, he needs to control his burning face now, so that you have no idea how much your words have affected him, when he goes to wrap your hand in a few moments.

Your voice rings out, a little shyer this time. “Honestly, I dreamt about the day when I would finally get to meet you, Seven. I was drawn to you the very first time we spoke. And then the first time I actually heard your voice…my heart skipped a beat, I swear…Hah…I’m being so bold right now. It’s not as if you feel the same, right?”

 _Yes, I do,_ Saeyoung’s inner voice screams. But it’s best for you if you assume he doesn’t feel the same.

“Are you feeling less woozy now?” he asks as he walks into the kitchen.

You look up at him and nod.

“Why don’t you sit up, then, so I can wrap your hand.”

He makes quick work of bandaging you up.

“Luciel.”

Your voice stops him as he’s about to walk out of the kitchen.

“I know you don’t feel the same, but…can I hug you, just this once? As a thank you for saving me from bleeding to death?” You chuckle, obviously thinking you weren’t in any danger of death, but Saeyoung thinks otherwise.

Perhaps one hug won’t be the end of the world…

He turns and opens his arms for you. The smile you grace him with is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and he genuinely hopes you won’t be able to feel his racing heartbeat when you come into his arms, and wow are you really that tiny, and does your hair really smell that nice close up, and do you really fit so perfectly in his arms; why are you the absolute most beautiful creature in the world; why can’t he just deserve something good for once; doesn’t he deserve to be happy, too?

His arms tighten around you for just a moment. This is his only chance to ever hold you like this, and though he doesn’t want to hold you tighter – to make it worse on either of you – he can’t help it. They are moving of their own volition.

That’s also the excuse he uses when his eyes meet yours, your head tilted up towards him in an obvious invitation. It’s the excuse he uses when he leans down, accepting your invitation. And it’s the excuse he uses when your lips finally, _finally_ meet.

God, he’s fucked.


	2. Highly requested part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> very short, highly requested sequel. it sucks. :)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

It’s with a curse and shooting pain that you awake in the morning. There is searing pain in your left hand, and all at once, the memories from last night start rushing through you.

A blush spreads across your cheeks, as you remember exactly how bold you’d been with Luciel last night. Had you seriously said all those things to him? Oh, _God_. You’d basically told a guy, whom you’ve only known a few days, that you’re completely and totally in love with him

Yeah, that’s sane.

You quietly go to the kitchen, hoping Luciel doesn’t hear the pitter patter of your feet. Your throat is burning with the need to quench your thirst. Luckily, the click clacking of his keyboard doesn’t stop – did he even sleep last night?

After a moment, you take a second to finally look at the hand that hurts so much – and you’re dizzied by how bad it looks. Guess your dream of becoming Mars’ first hand model will _never_ come true, now, you think with a quiet snicker.

Honestly, though, it does look pretty bad. Hopefully, you hadn’t severed any tendons or anything, last night. You test the movement of your hand, just in case – luckily, you can still move your fingers, though it hurts like an S O B.

Quietly, you put your glass into the sink and march back to your bed, where you plan to hide in embarrassment for all of eternity. It still hasn’t fully hit you, what you said last night. How could you have been so forward?

In sheer agony due to your intense embarrassment, you scream into your pillow. Not a second later, the man at the root of your embarrassment comes running into the room.

“Are you okay?!”

“Just leave me to die~~~” you wail melodramatically.

“Does your hand hurt that much?”

“Noooooooooo. My heart does! Gahhhhhhh I’m so sorry, Seven!” You sit up suddenly, still holding the pillow to your now-burning face.

“Sorry for what?” he asks, confused.

“The things I said last night.”

There’s a pause. Obviously Luciel is trying to decide if he should pretend he never heard you say anything or just admit it and get this confrontation over with.

“I should be more sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

 _Wait._ He _kissed_ you? What? Why can’t you remember that? You drop the pillow in shock, and Seven winces when he sees your face.

“You don’t remember. Shit…”

“You could…remind me,” you say suddenly, not without a twinge of shyness.

“…fuck it,” he says, before pulling you into his arms. His lips press against yours lightly, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate.

“This is a mistake, you know,” he says between kisses.

You don’t even deign to respond—you just smile between the chaste pressing of your lips with this enigma of a man.

Everything finally feels _right_.


End file.
